THE SHADOW: The Mystery of the Mad Doctor
by DARK KNIGHT of the MOON
Summary: A new supercriminal has risen in New York City. He calls himself the Mad Doctor. Who is he, and why has he kidnapped the Mayor? A new agent is born into the Shadow's world. Watch as the Shadow and his agents work together to bring him down.
1. Prologue the Birth of an Agent

**Prologue - The birth of an agent**

**NEW YORK CITY- circa 1940 **

It was an unusually foggy night, perhaps too foggy at the inner square of downtown New York City. This great city, or at least the major parts throughout, were some of the most vile and crime ridden areas in the entire country, if not the world. This is a city as dark and ominous as the nightmares of the mad men that dwell here.

Exiting through the back door of a famous nightspot, the _Cobalt Club_, a woman walked hesitantly through an alley to the bulk of the crowded street. Holding tightly to her fur wrap, she waved down a taxi.

Tall and beautiful, she quickly entered a cab as it pulled off to the shoulder within seconds of her waving. Opening the door, she glanced in the front seat, spotting the Italian driver stare through the mirror at her low cut dress. She entered, and as the cab drove off she nervously glanced behind her to see if anyone was following.

"Where to lady?" the cabbie questioned, his voice thick and deep.

Somewhat put off by the thinly haired man, she tensely answered, "Anywhere away from here."

"You in some kind of trouble lady?" he asked as he turned right onto Water Street.

"Just take me home. I live on Third Street," she answered fumbling with the clasp on her necklace, struggling not to meet the eyes glaring at her from the cab's rear view mirror.

"That's gonna be quite a hefty fee lady."

"Just take me," she folded her arms, staring out the window at the gloomy cityscape. Hearing him grunt, she replied, annoyed, "Look driver, there's an extra twenty bucks in it for you if you stay quiet. I've had a bad night as it is."

"Sure thing lady," the chubby driver huffed, throwing up his arms as he stopped the car at a busy intersection.

The woman, Alanis Wattanabee, thought back to before the night's show at the Cobalt as her boss humiliated her by fondling her in front of the veteran singers. It was the type of environment that gave her a tough edge and although she despised it, she needed her job. With good reason to be nervous, she routinely left work in a hurry because of erratic fans and the typical weirdoes that loitered around the club's back doors at night for handouts.

Suddenly thunder boomed from all around and then an abrupt downpour invaded the dark road on which the car traveled. The driver groaned, unable to see the road as he pulled onto Brooklyn Bridge. Slowing the car, he leaned over to search through the glove compartment in frantic search for his eyeglasses.

With sudden haste, the tires of the dingy yellow vehicle lost traction as the car swerved to and fro into oncoming cars. With horns blaring and thunder crashing, he returned his focus to the blurry road, forgetting about his glasses.

In a blinding moment, the taxi swerved and crashed into the monolithic support beams of the Brooklyn Bridge. With the snapping of the driver's seatbelt, he lurched forward and busted his head on the dash, immediately unconscious as blood gushed from his scalp.

Erupting in tears of shock and pain, Alanis screamed for the driver's attention but as he didn't respond, she unsteadily leaned into the front seat to wake him up. Shifting her weight in the mangled car, the front wheels gave way, sending the taxi to a teetering position. Jumping back into the rear seat, she pushed all her weight towards the back to level out the wavering vehicle.

As the car stopped teetering, finally motionless, she breathed deeply, considering her options. With every slight movement she made and with every inch she crawled to the door, the car rocked farther off the edge. Crying, she drew her knees to chest and prayed for a savior.

* * *

A figure stepped from out of the hazy night and in the blink of an eye, he disappeared, only to reappear next to the cab driver's door as he effortlessly tore it off from the hinges.

Snatching the driver out of the seat, he heard a woman scream whom scrambled farther back into her seat, jostling the car as she moved. Quickly checking the man's pulse - none - he left him on the pavement and jerked open the back door.

Grabbing for the woman inside, the mysterious figure pulled her out of the car as she screamed. Within seconds of tossing her aside on the concrete, the car finally teetered over the edge, falling into the East River.

As Alanis regained control of her senses, she calmed herself, recognizing the man not as a villain but as a hero. Slowly rising to her feet, she watched the man return to the driver, kneeling at his side to close his eyelids as a final gesture. Knowing the man had passed, she moved closer to the strange figure, realizing he was shrouded entirely in black.

Unable to tell who this stranger was, or if he was even human, she studied him up and down. The stranger wore a broad brimmed fedora as black as night; and a red scarf-like mask covered the lower half of his face, like a sinister bandit. Alanis wasn't sure what to make of this strange being that came from nothing. Not sure on how to react towards this strange being, nothing could have prepared her for what was to happen next.

In a clear but devilish voice, the masked man spoke, "You are Alanis Wattanabee, are you not?" he questioned menacingly, standing beside the dead driver, his back turned to her.

Unable to speak, she mouthed a reply but no sound emerged. Licking her dry lips, she coughed a few times, trying to find her voice.

"Answer," the figure proclaimed suddenly, turning to face her, his eyes shadowed from beneath his hat.

With no further hesitation, Alanis stepped back, belting out, "Yes, yes I am!"

Slightly grinning as he heard her voice quake and shudder at his presence, the figure moved closer to Alanis and grimly stated, "I saved your life tonight, it now belongs to me. You will now show me full devotion and like many before you, will become one of my agents. In return, I will offer you a better life. Your struggle to pay bills will no longer cause you a night's worry. No longer will you have to work a job you loathe. I will give you a chance at a fresh start, but you must swear to me full obedience."

"Full obedience?" Alanis exclaimed, stepping back again to hold her head, pulling out the curls of her black tresses. "I… don't get me wrong Mister, I do appreciate you saving me. The car could have tipped over at any second. I owe you my life, but… who are you? Tell me your name."

Holding his head up slightly, he allowed her to glimpse into his eyes, startling her with the violence he kept hidden. "I am known as The Shadow."

"Well, I mean this is a lot to consider. What exactly do you mean by full obedience?"

"I mean your life," he stated with great intensity.

"Oh yes, I'm sure you do… and I will gladly repay you in any way I can, but I must keep my job if I wish to live," Alanis countered.

"Pay no mind to that dismal life Miss Wattanabee, you will never have to worry about anything ever again. Your only purpose now is to serve me, but you of course still possess free will. Therefore, this is your choice."

"Well then, I accept. My life is now yours."

"You must never mention me and you have never heard of me. I do not exist. Do you understand?"

"Yes, I understand."

"Good," the Shadow exclaimed with a deep, menacing laugh.

Suddenly a bright yellow taxicab that appeared brand-new rolled up alongside the dark, abandoned scene. The Shadow guided his new agent into the cab as it quickly sped off into the darkness.


	2. Chapter 1 The Mayor's Abduction

**Chapter 1 - The Mayor's abduction**

The mysterious car crash made news the next day around New York's social scene. From the Times to the Post, every paper detailed the incident that left police baffled. _How did the car crash? Who pulled out the deceased driver? Was there a passenger involved with the crash?_ No one could be sure.

It was now the following night of the puzzling accident as Lamont Cranston tossed aside the evening edition of a random paper. As he exited a bright yellow cab, he tugged his wool coat around him and looked up into the cloudy night sky. Strolling into the Cobalt Club, he nodded to the doorman and relinquished his coat to the bellhop. Wearing his usual black tie apparel, he straightened out his jacket and fixed his tie before leaving the foyer.

Walking away from the entrance, he shook hands with a few familiar faces as he approached the dining area. Before making his presence known, he casually leaned against a railing that overlooked the dance floor and setting area.

Crowded as the club was on a Friday night, the Cobalt never failed in hosting a number of New York's elite. Lining the walls on the left and right were booths cloaked in burgundy, large enough to hold four people, or perhaps six if one was lucky enough to reserve the grandest booths available. Away from the periwinkle-blue walls, closer to the dance floor, rested round and square table alike, draped with the same burgundy cloth.

As his eyes traveled to the dance floor, he noticed very few couples held each other arm in arm and swayed to the music.

At the back of the club, Lamont eyed a table in the V.I.P. section and strolled over to it. The beautiful Margo Lane was seated facing the other direction with her usual slouched demeanor. Not only was she a friend of his, she was also an agent of his alter ego, the Shadow.

With a glass of wine in one hand, the other tapped the table as she leaned casually back in the chair.

Suddenly, with an eerie feeling coming over her, she immediately looked up into Lamont's smiling face. "Oh dear, Lamont?" she breathed, gripping her chest with her hand. With her slender frame and bobbed blonde hair, she hastily stood up to greet him.

"Margo, How are you?" the swanky playboy asked, flashing his usual debonair smile.

Grinning, she nodded and sat back in her chair. "I'm alright Lamont but… I have some urgent news from Burbank. The message seemed to be of quite importance."

"Oh? Let's have it. What's the news?" he uttered flashing a fake smile towards the waiter bringing a bottle of the finest champagne that the Cobalt had to offer.

After the waiter departed, Lamont straightened his back and bent over so the two could talk privately.

"Well," Margo started, inching closer in her chair so the two were nearly eye-to-eye. "Burbank says that Inspector Cardona gave him some classified police information that the authorities are not ready to release to the public. The Mayor has been kidnapped," she revealed, lowering her voice. "No one in the city knows as of yet, because the police are staying tight lipped."

"We must be careful, Margo. The police are doing right by keeping this a secret. If word gets out, this could turn into a matter of National Security," Lamont exclaimed guzzling his champagne as people walked by to keep up his image as an irresponsible playboy.

"What do you say we finish our drinks and get out of here. Alright Lamont?" Margo wondered.

"Sure, Moe is waiting outside. Let's go," the handsome man declared. Swallowing the last of his champagne, he threw down his payment for the bottle on the table and casually offered Margo his arm.

The pair exited the club, as was their custom. Lamont usually walked in the place in early evening, had a drink, shared conversation, then he and Margo left together.

As the pair stepped outside, a certain bright yellow taxicab that appeared brand-new rolled up to collect Lamont and Margo. Entering, the ever-zealous Moe Shrevnitz greeted them.

"Hi Boss, Hi Miss Lane," he happily announced, checking his watch and then his mirrors. "Why Miss Lane, you look better than ever. Is your hair different?"

Laughing, she brushed up her hand to her mouth, greeting him as well. "Hello, Shrevvy. Aren't you a romantic tonight?" Margo grinned, calling him a fond pet name she often used for the charming driver.

"Hi Moe," Lamont acknowledged secondly, closing the door behind as the car started down the street.

"Where to Boss?" Moe asked, cracking his neck before yawning.

"The Sanctum Moe, and step on it."

"You got it Boss," the lanky cab driver stated, making a right before zooming down the street.

* * *

Moments later, the impressive cab pulled up to a deserted, grimy brick building somewhere in the heart of downtown. As the cab door flew open, out came Lamont, who in turn, gripped Margo Lane's delicate hand and guided her from the car. Moe's cab suddenly sped away from the dark scene as Lamont and Margo approached the building's shadowy entrance through a dark side alley.

Lamont fished for an ancient skeleton key from his tuxedo pocket and upon finding it, inserted it into a nearly unseen keyhole hidden by a discreet metal casing. Suddenly the iron door slid into the brick siding, revealing a large entrance with steps descending into a black pit.

Years ago as he traveled in the Orient, he learned a baffling secret, the hypnotic power to cloud men's minds and become invisible. From the lush forests and through the primordial sands of time, he finally conquered his fears. No longer would he wonder the earth in search of something greater, hurting and damaging those in his way… instead he would strive for goodness. He is The Shadow, a mysterious crime fighter doomed and blessed by the Ancients to combat crime.

Shaking his past from his thoughts, he stepped inside the dark place, holding Margo's hand, following the steps until a dim light appeared through another door. Easily pushing it open, they stepped into the Sanctum, the Shadow's lair.

With the Sanctum's main purpose being a communication headquarters, the Shadow and his closet companions frequented the den to deliberate and keep crime at a minimum.

Approaching a large desk, Lamont sat behind it in a leather chair and picked up a telephone receiver. Pushing a flashing button and speaking into the receiver, the wall behind the desk parted and disappeared.

Before them plastered on the wall was a closed circuit television screen. A broadcast immediately came through from Burbank, the Shadow's communication agent, whose chief priority was to keep contact between the Shadow and his agents. Burbank was indespensible in the Shadow's organization, for when an agent needed to report to the Shadow, Burbank sent them through a special, unspecified device putting them through to the closed circuit television in the Shadow's sanctum.

"Hello Burbank," Lamont started, replacing the receiver as he stood from his chair to speak with Burbank. "Margo told me about the Mayor's abduction. Care to elaborate old friend?"

Through the television screen, a lanky man with thinning dark hair spoke, his voice shrill and sharp. "Cardona sent me a letter from the classified files at police headquarters. The police know about as much as the letter claims at this point. I'll read it to you now," Burbank said opening the letter from a manila envelope.

"Beware you fools, I have the Mayor. This city owes me and I am taking my payment now. But you will get a chance to get your Mayor back. We are going to play a game with his life. All you must do within two weeks of receiving this message, is figure out just where it is in the city that the Mayor currently resides. If you find him, he's yours, but for a price. You must pay me in the amount of $100,000,000. If my demands are not met, then take heed… I will strike. If the Mayor does not cooperate with me in full at any time then there will be HELL to pay. Remember, you have two weeks."

- The Mad Doctor

"The strange part of it Boss, is that no one has heard anything from any kind of Mad Doctor," Burbank informed after reading the note.

Lamont shot an intense but confused gaze at Burbank, and then to Margo as he heard the words that came from the letter. "We'll have to be cautious of everyone. Burbank, send out a signal to Alanis Wattanabee, my newest agent. Let her know that the Shadow requires her assistance."

* * *

The next night, the air was cold and still, just like the Mayor's mansion. Dark and peaceful, the nineteenth century building had a strange eeriness due to its sheer size. The manor appeared as if it had not been lived in for some time, even though the abduction of its owner occurred recently.

Suddenly, the main entrance into the three-story labyrinth was bombarded by the wind as the massive double doors flew open. Appearing unexpectedly, a figure loomed quietly in a dark corridor of the main hallway. With another rush of wind, the doors closed as the mysterious man searched for any possible clues to the Mayor's abduction.

Scaling a grand staircase to the second floor, the figure noticed a beam of light escaping through a narrow slit from a massive doorframe that illuminated the ceramic tiles and elegant walls of the hallway. Approaching the Mayor's luxurious master bedroom, he entered slowly. With no one waiting inside, he realized that the light was from the Mayor's balcony door. The French doors leading outside were left cracked open, and knowing that the police left everything as it was on night of the disappearance, the Shadow knew the Mayor had been abducted during slumber, kidnapped by way of his own terrace.

With the bed sheets ravaged and an old Victorian nightstand tipped over, a struggle was evident. As he approached a nearby window next to the open door, something caught his eye. On the floor - a matchbook - he noticed, picking it up to examine it.

The matchbook only had one match torn out and the logo on the front side was that of a local downtown tavern known as The Shady Inn. Fumbling the tiny item through his fingers, he noticed something scribbled on the back - Martin Kreeger. Believing this was the best, if only, clue he would find tonight, he swiftly raced through the balcony doors and glared down the terrace to the pristine landscape with an almost evil stare.

Taking a leap, the Shadow was gone.

* * *

The Shady Inn, a place that only decent, respectable people could afford. A place that was as safe as home, yet bared the charm of a popular vacation spot. The kind of place that even the most jaded of tourists would enjoy, it bared an old world charm, with its various antique items.

The place boasted a neat taproom that was nothing more than a large room with tables and chairs for dining, a jukebox sporting country western tunes and a bar in the front. Tonight the place was nearly deserted but for a short, stocky bald guy, hunched over at the bar, smoking a thick black cigar and drinking some cheap booze holding conversation with the equally stocky bartender.

"So Mac, you seeing a lot of business these days?" the man with cigar inquired.

"Just enough to support the wife Martin. You know I don't own the place. If I did, man would that be a lot of dough."

"Yeah I'll bet," the man agreed with a laugh. The man was Martin Kreeger, a regular at this place. He was kind of a mysterious man and never talked much to anyone except the bartender.

As the two men chatted, the door suddenly flew open. The sound of a gust of wind permeated their ears.

"Damn wind," the bartender moaned, as he hurried from behind the bar to close the door.

"Strange weather for May ain't it," Kreeger responded to the annoying distraction of wind.

"You said it Martin," the bartender agreed, returning to his post behind the bar.

As Kreeger lit up another cigar, the bartender began washing shot glasses. Suddenly the stocky bartender dropped one as he saw the shadow of a lone figure on the back wall of the taproom.

"You alright Mac?" Kreeger questioned.

The bartender gasped in horror as he saw the apparent figure appear from out of the back wall. The figure seemed to move from out of the darkness, becoming all too apparent. It was The Shadow.

Sinister laughter filled the room, stunning Kreeger, causing him to fall off of his bar stool. With that the bartender pulled out a shotgun from behind the bar and fired a shot. The laughing grew louder, and suddenly the figure was gone.

"Where'd he go," Kreeger asked.

"My God, it's the devil himself," the bartender declared.

From out of nowhere the Shadow appeared behind the bar grabbing the bartender and throwing him to the floor. The Shadow then directed his attention to Kreeger. As the Shadow moved from behind the bar, Kreeger pulled out a small snub-nosed revolver. The Shadow smacked the piece out of his hands and grabbed him, lifting him off the floor.

By now the bartender stood up and ran out of the room via a small door behind the bar. The Shadow stared at the terrified Kreeger and spoke.

"Martin Kreeger, you were involved in the abduction of the mayor… Did you think I wouldn't find you?"

Kreeger responds in panic & fright "You, the Shadow… I heard you weren't real – you don't exist."

"Yes, yes, I'm just a figment of your pathetic imagination, a product of your drunkenness. Now, tell me who this Mad Doctor is!"

"I can't, I can't. I'll be killed."

Without warning, the Shadow dropped him. Kreeger fell to the floor and began screaming in terror. The Shadow backed away from his quarry and began waving his hands with mysterious gestures. The Shadow's mysterious girasol ring flared many different shades. Kreeger immediately rose to his feet. His eyes were empty, and he gazed at the Shadow with a blank stare. The Shadow had put the man in a trance. He suddenly began to verbalize what the Shadow needed to hear.

"I do not know the man's name, but I do know that he is the leader of a powerful organized crime syndicate. I've never even seen his face. I don't answer to him… I answer to one of his guys. I just work for some guy at some dive called _The Big Mug_... they don't tell me anything. That is all," Kreeger stated in a mystified daze.

"Are you sure that is all you know?" the Shadow grimly inquired.

"That's it. I swear it," Kreeger claimed.

Suddenly, the Shadow grabbed the man by the neck and tossed him behind the bar with great ease. Kreeger's neck snapped with a loud crack as he was thrown. The door flew open and the strange wind sounded. As Kreeger now lay paralyzed behind the bar counter, no apparent evidence of his mysterious aggressor could be found.


	3. Chapter 2 An agent's first mission

**Chapter 2 - A new agent's first mission**

A few days following her encounter with the Shadow, Alanis Wattanabee sat in the crowded kitchenette of her apartment eating a bowl of breakfast cereal. Still very shaken up from her meeting with the mysterious Shadow, she recalled the cab ride back to her apartment and the instructions he gave her - she was to wait in her apartment until further notice. Trying to comprehend everything he told her, she couldn't help but feel both scared and excited at her new life ahead. Having saved her mundane life, he offered a better one, which she accepted.

Alanis didn't know much of anything about her mystifying rescuer. Sure she speculated about who he was or where he came from, as agents of the Shadow often do. But the fact was, she knew not his purpose or methods. All she really knew was that he saved her life and as such, she would gladly repay him in any way he deemed necessary. It was a surprisingly easy decision for her to make. He offered a life that was much greater than the one she was previously living and besides that, he offered her money and all the adventures a girl like Alanis could ask for.

She sat staring out her window, looking at the crowded street. As she finished eating her bowl of cereal, a knock was heard at her door. Hurrying from the kitchen to the door, she opened it only enough to see a short, curious-looking postal worker standing before her.

_That's funny_, she thought, _the mail has already come today_.

"Miss Wattanabee?" the man asked, his voice low and solemn.

"Yes, that's me," exclaimed Alanis, keeping the door cracked as they talked.

"I got a package for you, it looks important. I'd take care of it if I were you," he stated, motioning for her to open the door more.

"Oh?" she uttered, deducing that he might be an agent of the Shadow.

"Yes," the man whispered. "Pay close attention to what's inside."

_He was definitely an agent of the Shadow._

"Oh I got it," she declared, trying to be as non-chalant as possible. She took the small package, thanked the man, and then closed the door as fast as possible. Taking the package and putting it on the dinette table, she grabbed a small utility knife from a kitchen drawer, and sliced the cardboard postal box open.

Inside the small package, Alanis picked up a lengthy note, detailing her first orders from the Shadow. Also, inside a small velvet box, she found a strange piece of jewelry. It was a silver ring with a brilliant red opal in the center. It was attached to a note that read, "Never take it off," in bold print. Taking the ring in her hand, she placed it on her right ring finger as it displayed a beautiful fiery glow.

* * *

Late that night, Alanis walked to the west side of town searching for some unfamiliar local bar called _The Big Mug_. The crowded streets were full of people, from hoodlums to prostitutes and gang-bangers, Hearing from some shady characters as she asked for directions, she knew that only lowlifes and criminals frequented most of the bars on the West Side but they informed her that this old tavern housed the worst of the scum and to stay clear. 

Ignoring a homeless man's gesture, she continued down the streets, bombarded by scores of pimps and men selling fake jewelry. Finally from across the street, she saw a brightly lit orange sign across the street. _The Big Mug_, it read in flashing neon lights, drawing her attention as she jaywalked across the street.

As Alanis entered the vile joint, she noticed from first glance that despite the new fangled materials and lights on the outside, the inside was more like a saloon from the old west than a modern barroom. It had all the usual refinements but the décor gave the place a nostalgic sense that further helped its visitors to escape from their busy if not problematic lives.

Directly before her were several round and squared-shaped tables, some occupied with drinking men and women, others vacant. Steering clear of the rambling men, she noticed a bar to the left and to the right was a small wooden stage meant for entertainment. To the back of the club and to the right of the bar was a lone door, leading into the area where she assumed the Shadow wanted her to go. Sauntering toward the bar like some sort of femme fatale, she sat a few stools down from other customers and hesitantly asked the bartender for a Vodka Spritzer. As the bartender made her the drink, she analyzed the old man closely. He made her nervous with his shifty eyes and outlandish build and manners, but then again, everything about the bar made her uneasy.

Batting her brown eyes, she inquired with a long sigh, "Say bartender, I assume you get a lot of dames coming in here asking for work. But I also understand that you get a lot of hoods around these parts. Ever hear talk of any 'secret mafia business'."

Slamming the drink down hard on the bar table, the bartender's shifty eyes glanced at a couple of men in the back of the room. Not responding to Alanis' question, the tall, slender gentleman quickly exited into a back room via a door next to the bar.

"Was it something I said," Alanis verbalized, smiling and looking around to the other patrons of this sleazy pub.

She continued drinking her Vodka Spritzer as two men walked out from the back room. They sauntered behind the bar in her direction. These men were definitely lower level thugs because they were dressed in classic mobster garb. The tall one sported a blue pinstripe suit and fedora while the shorter, stockier man wore a black suit with his black hair slicked straight back.

"The bartender says you been asking some questions," the tall goon uttered in a slow drawl.

"That's right," Alanis uttered, trying not to sound nervous.

"Who wants to know?" the short man butted in.

"Are you some kind of snitch?" the tall man asked cautiously, eyeing her up and down in her black dress and jacket.

"Now listen gentlemen, I ain't nothing of the sort. I don't want any trouble. I just wanna know if you have some room available. See, I'm new in town and if I can join in your racket, I'd make an interesting player," she responded, tapping her painted nails against the counter as if she was bored.

"Who sent you?" the tall man uttered.

"No, nobody, it ain't like that," Alanis said.

"Yeah I don't believe you," the tall man pronounced, "Get her Frenchy!" the goon ordered to his shorter counterpart.

Suddenly, the smaller goon lunged for Alanis. She picked up a barstool and threw it at the goon but to no avail. From out of the back came the bartender and a couple of other goons.

"No, get away from me!" Alanis shouted as she ran to the opposite side of the pub, knocking over chairs in her wake as the tall man chased after her.

Suddenly terrible laughter overtook the crooked joint as gangsters and patrons alike froze in surprise and fear of the horrible, menacing laughter.

"What the hell is that?" one of the many goons exclaimed, looking around.

"Who cares, grab that nosey broad," the bartender ordered but as the goons proceed towards Alanis, a voice echoed from a shaded corner.

"Stop," the voice demanded, "Get away from that woman."

"Who's there" the bartender demanded, "come into the light."

"I am right here, in the light gentlemen, you can not see me."

"Wait a minute, I heard of you. You're that ghost everyone's talkin' about; the one they never see," the bartender muttered with fright.

"I assure you, I am no ghost. I am the Shadow. Now gentlemen, tell me, who is this Mad Doctor?" the Shadow groaned, his voice bellowing around the room.

"Oh my God, he knows about the Doc," the tall man declared to the bartender.

Abruptly loud moans and whispers of certain patrons bombarded the mobsters' senses as they questioned to their drinking partners about someone called the Mad Doctor.

"That's right gentlemen, tell me who he is and what his plans are," the Shadow demanded.

Suddenly the larger goons from behind the counter sprang into action as the bartender quickly exited into the back room. Each goon produced a snub-nosed revolver, ready to fire.

Without hesitation a rush of wind embraced the goons as the Shadow began to make fast work of these vile men. Punching one in the nose, blood trickled down into the gangster's mouth as his eyes burned with tears. Swiftly, the Shadow delivered a hard, right kick into his gut, sending him plummeting towards the floor. Throwing him like a bag of grain over his head and behind the bar, the Shadow easily evaded the other goon's left hook. Sending the pitiful buffoon into unconsciousness, he threw the large thug into an empty table, on the far side of the tavern. Having disarmed such inferior weapons from the two large thugs, the common customers of the tavern finally took the Shadow's heed and rushed from the place in fright.

Meanwhile the tall mobster and the short one, known as Frenchy, each withdrew a pistol from inside their jackets. Two more mobsters appeared from out of the backroom, each wielding shotguns. The suited mobsters with pistols dove behind the bar, giving the bigger guns an opportunity to have it out with the Shadow.

In a flash the Shadow produced his own weapons: two identical .45 automatic pistols. Outmatched as he was with shotguns pointed his direction, he blasted them away before they even had a chance to fire. As the big goons fell to the floor, blood oozing from their skulls, the two suited gangsters made a hasty exit to the back room.

"Get out of here Alanis," the Shadow suddenly ordered to his agent.

Without hesitation, she bolted out the door, racing past several onlookers who crowded in front of the bar, staring in through the murky windows at the shootout. The Shadow moved unseen to the backroom of the joint. As he entered the backroom he noticed that he was in a storeroom; there were barrels and bottles of liquor crowding the room. As he glanced out a nearby window, he spotted two men entering a black car, in a parking lot directly behind the bar. The two men fleeing the scene were the suited gangsters from the bar, the tall man and Frenchy.

The Shadow moved to the storeroom exit and noticed the bartender hastily entering his car, in an obvious attempt to avoid the Shadow. Just before the nervous bartender started his vehicle, the driver's side window was shattered. The poor man was torn from his leather seat and thrown to the solid ground below. The man tried to stumble to his feet but was seized by the Shadow. Throwing him up against the tavern's brick structure, the Shadow pinned him on the wall, his feet dangling sporadically.

"Oh my God," were the only frantic words that escaped the bartender's lips as he realized that the Shadow was no longer an invisible ghost but a horrible figure cloaked in omniscience.

"I know you are involved with the Mad Doctor," declared the Shadow, staring intently into the bartender's eyes as he clasped the man's throat tighter.

"And that means what to me?" the bartender questioned, barely able to breathe.

"It means I'm on to you. I know that your bar harbors illegal activity. Who is he, this Mad Doctor?"

"You don't know shit," claimed the bartender. "You think you can come into my place and bust everything up."

"Shut up!" the Shadow ordered in a menacing tone. "Who is he?" he asked, lifting him away from the wall slightly to pound him even harder again.

"Nobody knows," the bartender stated, wincing in pain. "No one has ever seen his face. He runs the Zerrini Crime Syndicate. He gives the orders to Carlos Zerrini and he and his gang carries 'em out. That's all I know, I'm just paid by Zerrini to keep my bar open for their operations."

"I've dealt with him before… Up to his old tricks again! Where do I find Carlos Zerrini," demanded the Shadow, his eyes burning with fire as he locked his gaze with the frightened man.

"I don't know, I swear to Christ man. I just see him when he comes in the bar."

Not a moment later, the Shadow threw the bartender into the gravel parking lot. Allowing the pathetic excuse of a man to stumble back to his car, the bartender reached into the floorboard for his rifle, but as he turned back around to face his terrifying assailant, the Shadow was gone!

* * *

The next evening, Alanis Wattanabee was at home. She decided she would wait until the Shadow beckoned her again, to go out looking for trouble. She spent the morning resting in bed and playing with a stray cat that she fed on her windowsill. The cat laid across her lap as she listened to the radio in her bedroom. 

Tuning the station, she was able to pick up a news report that detailed the events of last night. _Four men killed, two hospitalized, names not yet released to the public._ _After many people exited the shady tavern known as The Big Mug, a woman was seen exiting minutes later and disappearing. She is wanted for questioning. Witnesses described her as being in her mid-twenties, nearly six feet tall with fair skin and curly hair pulled back by a hair band. If anyone knows any… _

Alanis switched off the radio. Shocked that the police wanted her, she was thankful that they didn't have any information on who she was. _They don't know where I live or who I am. I'm in the safe, the clear. Besides, I am an agent of the Shadow… they won't get me_, she thought confidently.Not wanting to worry, she moved the sleeping cat off her lap to dress. Craving fish, she decided to stop by a fish market on her way to the grocery for milk and eggs. Allowing the cat to leave the apartment before she closed and locked all the windows, she took a transit to Brooklyn's fish market, _Ching's_.

Looking over the variety of fish, she finally decided and waved down an Asian clerk. "I'll take two pounds of the whitefish Sir," Alanis told the man in a white apron behind the counter.

"Two pounds! Whitefish!" the clerk yelped to a young boy who gathered the fish to be weighed and chopped. "That be three dollars Ma'am," the clerk mumbled as the boy finished wrapping the cuts.

Handing the man the money, she grabbed her bag of fish and was off. Leaving the market, she walked a few blocks and entered a family owned grocer. Minutes later, she reappeared on the street with another bag in hand. Not wanting to wait half an hour for the bus, she began walking towards Third Street and off to home.

With it being near dusk, she noticed a pair of beaming lights, not far behind her. As she walked, she would periodically glance back to see if the beams had disappeared. She then recognized that these beaming lights were a car's headlights… she was being followed. She gave no thought to whom it might be following her and kept her steady pace toward home. As she came upon a gloomy alley that she remembered was a shortcut to Third Street, she quickly entered. As she walked through the foggy passage, she noticed that a black car obstructed the other side of the alley.

She began to get frightened, and started to back out of the alley. Suddenly, one of the doors to the car opened. Out stepped a tall man in a blue pinstriped suit. She quickly recognized the man as her offender from the bar the night before. She turned to run, as panic came over her. Suddenly another man stepped out from the other side of the car. It was Frenchy, the tall mobster's accomplice.

The two men darted after her. As she ran, she tripped and fell to the ground. The tall goon grabbed her. Suddenly a bright yellow taxicab that appeared brand-new rolled up alongside the dark alley. A man rushed out; it was Moe Shrevnitz, one of the Shadow's agent's. The goons hastily tried to drag Alanis to the car. Moe dove for the tall man, knocking him down, forcing Alanis free. She tried to escape, but Frenchy grabbed her forcing her to the ground. Moe pulled a switchblade knife, heaved the tall goon from the ground and put the knife to his throat.

"Now," said Moe, "I've got your friend, you give me mine," he said addressing Frenchy the goon.

"Do what he says," the tall goon ordered.

"Quiet you," Moe said pressing the blade harder into the goon's neck.

Frenchy thought for a moment, then released Alanis from his grip. Moe threw the goon to the ground. Quickly Alanis charged Moe, as the goons made a mad dash for their car.

"Are you alright?" Moe asked Alanis.

"I'm fine, thanks to you," she replied, picking up her groceries that she spilled throughout the alley.

"I'd been following you," Moe exclaimed, "by order of the Shadow."

"Well, he needs to learn I can take care of myself."

"You're new at this. The boss just wants to look out for his agents until they get used to this life," Moe informed. "C'mon, let's get you home," he said, as they walked back to the cab.


	4. Chapter 3 New Developments

**Chapter 3 - New Developments**

An entire week had passed since Lamont Cranston first heard of the Mad Doctor and the abduction of the Mayor of New York City. Struggling to relax in the back of a bright yellow taxicab that appeared brand-new, he looked out the darkly tinted window at the passing street and sighed deeply.

"Somethin' wrong Boss?" Moe Shrevnitz questioned as he glanced briefly through the rear view mirror.

"Huh? Oh nothing Moe. It's just this Mad Doctor business," Cranston responded rather concisely, not looking up to meet his friend's concerned gaze in the mirror.

"Is there a problem?" Moe continued as he turned a street corner, bypassing a group of rambunctious minors.

Breathing, somewhat irritated, he responded, trying not to offend Moe. "Let's not talk about it now Moe. I'm tired. Been a long day; just get me home."

"Alright sure Boss," Moe replied, not taking the abruptness to heart. "Say, you know, that Miss Wattanabee sure is a spirited lady," he picked up on conversation again seconds later, unable to stay quiet. "She may very well be even more spirited than Miss Lane. She's definitely confident and not afraid to take chances," Moe declared as he moved the cab through Main Street, exiting downtown.

"Ah huh, you're right Moe. She does seem to be very punctual. And no doubt a valuable ally for the Shadow," Cranston replied, nodding in agreement.

As the taxi pulled onto a dark road, a sudden downpour flooded the scene. The car turned hastily into a dim passage that gave way to Cranston's residence. The pristine driveway stood before a colossal stone mansion that looked as if it had been constructed during the civil war. The Cranston property was the kind of place that presented elegant charm during the day with its lush gardens and fancy statuaries at the front of the property. But at night, the place might represent something more eerie, like Dracula's castle or a witch's haven.

Cranston immediately stepped out of the cab uttering, "I need some time to think. I'll contact you when I need you again."

"Sure thing Boss," Moe consented just before Cranston nudged the car door shut.

As Moe's cab pulled away from the stately residence, Cranston approached the door. He pulled out an ancient skeleton key, the same one that granted access to the Shadow's Sanctum, and unlocked the heavy mahogany wood door, stepping inside.

* * *

The next afternoon at the 4th police precinct on the lower end of the Manhattan district, Inspector Joe Cardona was walking through the precinct's massive halls toward his office. He suddenly saw an unclean, lengthy haired man of broad stature moving down the foyer in his direction, carrying a cart of cleaning supplies. The odd looking man was a regular at the precinct, serving only as a part-time janitor and occasional acquaintance to Cardona.

"Hello Fritz," Cardona called out the janitor's name.

"Hi Joe," Fritz acknowledged in a weird drone, approaching the seasoned detective. "How's the game of cops and robbers runnin' Joe?"

"Oh it's alright. You know what kinds of weirdoes lurk around these parts," Cardona declared with a laugh.

"Anythin' excitin'?" Fritz wondered.

"I'm afraid not Fritz, just what you hear around the precinct," Cardona replied, smiling at the janitor.

"You know it's funny… back in my prime, I could've been a cop like you. But I got this bum leg and it restricted me to rather unfortunate household duties," Fritz offered, marveling at a mysterious fire opal ring which gleamed from Cardona's finger.

"Well that's too bad Fritz old boy. Say, listen… I gotta get in my office. I'm supposed to meet Commissioner Weston in an hour."

"All right Joe, I'll report anything I hear that sounds a little fishy," Fritz waved as Cardona quickly entered his office and shut the door.

Fritz immediately gripped his cart full of chemicals and supplies and slithered like a mysterious serpent down the hall. No longer was his bum leg a problem as he maneuvered towards a small staircase. Pulling the cart behind him, he descended the stairs and entered a door that led to a storeroom. Stashing his supplies, he briskly walked to the back of the storeroom and entered a service elevator.

Something miraculous happened as the lift's heavy door closed. Fritz quickly disrobed from his ragged coveralls and tore off his long, stringy hair that was now nothing more than an old ratty wig. In its place were the black cloak and the broad brimmed fedora of the Shadow.

* * *

A little while later, Joe Cardona strolled down a lone avenue somewhere near the center of Manhattan. The city was unusually calm for this particular time of day and as he came upon a dim streetlight, Cardona caught an early evening breeze rushing past him. Glancing briefly at the red traffic light, he waited for the electronic "Walk" sign to flash orange and then, with a moment's hesitation, he safely crossed a poorly paved intersection. Before long, he noticed a heavy man, clad in a bulky overcoat and brown fedora, standing by a store window peering in like a casual shopper.

"I hope I'm not late," Cardona spoke, standing directly behind the man, startling him.

"Oh, Cardona. It's you… not at all Joe," the man's voice boomed as he turned around, finding his partner waiting with folded arms.

"I didn't mean to startle you Commissioner Weston," Cardona continued, patting his friend on the back as the two men started to walk down the boulevard.

"It's nothing," the Police Commissioner uttered, straightening out his coat, shaking the feeling of shock from his body. Although easily startled, Weston was the kind of man ready for action. Police Commissioner Weston was a man of action. He was the kind of cop that worked hard for what he earned and was also the chief objector of the Shadow.

"Have you had dinner yet? I'm starvin' like an orphan," he laughed, nudging Cardona in the ribs. "Nah really, let's go somewhere and talk," the Commissioner offered.

"Sure, I know a great place," Cardona responded, stuffing his hands in his deep pockets as two young hoodlums passed.

"The Cobalt Club doesn't open until eight o'clock I think," Weston stated, lighting up a dark, thick cigar.

"I wasn't thinking there," Cardona informed waving the Commissioner down the street. "We need some place more private."

"Definitely," agreed the Commissioner.

The two men walked for maybe ten minutes, traversing block after crowded block. Finally, they entered a local dive called _The Crab Tree_. It offered the best seafood on that side of New York, with the exception of maybe a few locally owned fish markets. The place was elegant yet simple enough for a quick bite to eat. The food was reasonably priced and the atmosphere was friendly and clean.

As the pair of cops were seated at one of the establishment's finest tables, the lanky, clean-cut waiter took their order and briskly vanished into the back of the eatery.

"Let's get down to business Cardona," Commissioner Weston exclaimed as he unfolded his napkin and stuffed it in his shirt collar.

"Yes, the police have been working on this Mad Doctor thing for just over a week. Don't you think it's high time we go public about the Mayor?"

"Joe, are you out of your mind?" Commissioner Weston cried out, snuffing out the cigar he had been smoking, in a small ashtray, to light up another one. "That would throw the city into chaos. We've already had a few guys from different branches of law enforcement pose as the Mayor by phone, just so the city council won't get wise. If any one from any branch of city government finds out that he's missing, we'll have a big problem."

"With crime," Cardona uttered as the waiter returned with their coffee and water and quickly left.

"Crime? Hell, the media will have a field day. If we don't do something fast, the whole country will know about this, and we'll have every mobster and criminal from here to Tahiti on our hands. It's up to the police to keep the peace. No word of this must ever leak out. We need every available man to find this, this Mad Doctor… how many do we have?" Commissioner Weston inquired after a brief stutter, his teeth chattering in annoyance.

"We've got cops from every precinct from here to Staten Island on this. So far nobody's found anything."

"Well, it's only been a week but we don't have much longer."

"It's also a good thing he's not married. We wouldn't be able to pull this off if he had a wife and kids," Cardona added gulping his coffee down, following with water afterwards.

"I'm amazed that the Mad Doctor hasn't made a move yet. The threatening notes we've been getting are serious. The point is we gotta find him and bring him to justice."

"We're trying Sir," Cardona assured.

"Try harder damn it," Weston ordered, slamming his fist on the table, causing a small scene as other customers looked over and back to their meals. "Look, we need to set up a meeting with all the lead detectives and cops from every New York precinct. We have to do everything we can to not let this information leak," he calmed his voice, leaning over the table to talk more privately.

"Suppose this Mad Doctor infiltrates a radio or TV station. Then the whole world will figure out that New York police have been hiding this. The city will never trust us again. We'd be out on our ass working at a gas station after this dies down."

"I don't even wanna think about it Joe… I want the Mayor found, and I want him found now."

Suddenly, the waiter returned to their table with the plate of swordfish that Weston ordered and Cardona's crab cake platter. As quickly as the polite server issued their food, he disappeared once again to the back.

The conversation continued and soon shifted to other, less important things. As Cardona and Weston finished their meals, Cardona gave the gracious Commissioner some cash to pay for his meal, then hurriedly said goodbye. Standing up from the table, he grabbed his overcoat and rushed for the door of the nearly empty restaurant.

* * *

Late that night, in the dark and macabre atmosphere of The Shadow's Sanctum, the Shadow sat in full black garb at his desk, analyzing a copy of the note that the Mad Doctor had sent to the police. It was rare that the Shadow had gone this long without a single lead to a case. The Shadow's agents were his eyes and ears to New York City and the world. The masked man depended on them to feed him information so that he could thwart any criminal disaster that might occur.

The Shadow didn't want to admit it but he was a bit worried about this situation. At present, America's largest city was without a mayor. He was in the hands of some unstable madman, who could strike at any moment, and there wasn't one lead. Something had to be done soon or it might spell doom for millions of people.

As the Shadow continued looking over the detailed document, a green LED began flashing through the wall. Picking up a telephone receiver, he pressed a button and mumbled something. The wall behind the desk parted and disappeared. A broadcast immediately came through the closed circuit television from Joe Cardona.

"Report," the Shadow ordered in a morbid tone.

"Sir, I had a meeting with Commissioner Weston earlier today. He filled me in on the situation with the Mayor. A few superior police officials from all across town are keeping the rest of New York, including city government, under the impression that we still have an active mayor. Weston won't allow any precinct in the city to launch a task force on the Mad Doctor for fear of what might happen. Weston himself is afraid. No one knows where to look," Cardona informed.

"We have just inside a week to find him agent. If we get the Mayor safe, we can deal with the Mad Doctor later. Remember, do your job but remember you're also my agent."

"Understood Sir, I have nothing further to report."

"I have already called a meeting to order for some of my agents. Get here as fast as you can," the Shadow declared.

"Yes Sir," Cardona exclaimed obediently.

"Transmission out," the Shadow muttered under his breath.

With that, the closed circuit television disappeared and the wall assumed its normal position. The room returned to its usual dimness and the Shadow went back to work, awaiting the arrival of his agents.

* * *

About an hour later, only a few of the Shadow's primary street agents arrived; Margo Lane, Moe Shrevnitz, Joe Cardona and the newest member of the secret clan, Alanis Wattanabee. They were all present, spread out among the Sanctum's largest room, listening to their leader, face to face, as he assessed the grave circumstances regarding the Mayor, the city and the Mad Doctor.

"We've dealt with Carlos Zerrini before gang," Moe Shrevnitz spoke up in response to the Shadow. "I mean Boss, you nearly crumbled his criminal empire once before with a master stroke but now apparently there's some whack job running his entire outfit, holding the Mayor's life in the balance."

"The police have seen fit to not alert the public, because no one really knows what they're dealing with," Cardona offered, making himself and Moe a glass of Bourbon from the liquor cabinet.

"The whole thing seems so shady to me," Margo Lane butted in, standing from the rich couch to pace back and forth. "The Shadow, nor any of us for that matter, has ever had a problem deducing leads before. I don't know what to make of it. This doctor is smarter than the usual goons."

"Agents, listen and listen well," the Shadow cautioned, standing straight and menacing in a far corner of the room, where he appeared more as a silhouette than a person. "As my best agents, you are all ideally placed to come up with some immediate answers to the disappearance of the Mayor. I need all you to find this madman."

"Cardona," the Shadow ordered, listing details to each member, "you will watch the precincts… all of them. Keep me informed on the decisive actions of the police… Margo Lane, patrol the nightclubs, supply me with everything you might hear dealing with underworld activity… Moe, as always, keep transportation open for the agents and myself… Miss Wattanabee, watch the bars. I've been keeping an eye on _The_ _Big Mug_, with no sign of Zerrini or his lowlifes. Perhaps they're staying away due to the bar's recent altercation with The Shadow; I'm not sure. But in any case, see what you can find. Agents, as always, if you find anything, relay it to Burbank immediately. You are dismissed, for now. Moe will drive you wherever you need to go."

Immediately, Cardona, Margo Lane and Alanis Wattanabee exited the Sanctum through the heavy iron entrance.

"Say Boss," Moe started, approaching the Shadow as his fellow agents left and waited outside for him. "I've always wondered, how come Cardona and the rest don't know. Well, what I mean is why are Miss Lane and me and of course Burbank the only one's who know your true identity. I mean, Cardona and Miss Wattanabee are agents too."

"The answer is simple Moe… the three of you are my most frequent and closest agents. I need complete and open communication… ultimate trust with the three of you. Everyone else is simply an aid to be called on when the proper moment presents itself."

"Fair enough Boss, I await my next instructions," the cabbie proclaimed with a shrug and a bow, just before stepping through the iron door of the Sanctum.


	5. Chapter 4 Go Shadow Go

**Chapter 4 - Go Shadow Go**

The next afternoon, Alanis Wattanabee sauntered into the somewhat familiar setting of _The Big Mug_. She knew she would most certainly be recognized if she just strolled in casually, so she wore a seemingly inconspicuous disguise: a bandana around her head, a bonnet covering the top and a robe-like, flowing blue dress. This was not the usual attire one wore into a bar, but it would have to do for now.

As she entered, the place was dimly lit. She moved slowly to the back of the place, away from the bar and seated herself at a small, lonely table. The venue was crowded tonight. As she looked around, she saw what were maybe more than twenty would be hoods, gangsters and well-rounded criminals scattered about the joint. She recognized the bartender, and a few other goons planted at the bar.

From out of the back room, a tall, dark-skinned, suave looking man appeared, wandering behind the bartender, whispering something in his ear. The two men began exchanging words. Alanis quickly moved closer to the bar, in hopes of hearing their conversation.

"So yeah, just do it. We'll meet at the usual place… Bayard Street. The one close to the Bowery," the bartender uttered trying to be as shady.

"Ah good, the brothel," Alanis heard the dark skinned man say.

"Great, we'll see ya' there Carlos," the bartender uttered softly, turning toward Alanis. "Hey, you!" he exclaimed as he noticed her. "Can I get you something? Oh my God it's you," he cried out, rushing to the back room after recognizing her.

Alanis, grabbing her purse, started to hurry out of the place, but suddenly three regular sized goons, that she didn't recognize, with guns emerged from out of the back room. She hurried out of the vile place, just as they were drawing their guns.

"After her," the bartender ordered.

The three thugs quickly exited the shady tavern in pursuit. As they stepped outside into the cold air, Alanis was nowhere to be found.

* * *

Later, in the Shadow's Sanctum, the Shadow sat under a blue light, emitted from a large Victorian style lamp on his desk. Fully cloaked in black, he sat analyzing various reports that his agents had given him.

As the Shadow continued looking over a few detailed documents, the green LED that indicated a transmission was coming through, began flashing. He quickly responded by picking up the telephone receiver, then, pressing a button, he mumbled something. The wall disappeared, and as the broadcast came through the closed circuit television screen, the Shadow realized it was Alanis Wattanabee.

"Report," the Shadow ordered with his signature hiss.

"Yes sir, I've got something. I was at the bar and I overheard that the Zerrini gang has a meeting planned at some brothel on Bayard Street tonight," Alanis informed frantically.

"Bayard Street you say? Hmm, let me see," the Shadow uttered swiveling in his chair. He quickly arose from his seat and darted toward a map on the far wall. Placing his hands over the giant sized plot of New York City, he quickly eyed Bayard Street. "Ah, yes… Bayard Street. I have it. Bayard Street is in Chinatown," the Shadow affirmed returning to the desk.

"Boss, do you think the Mad Doctor will be there tonight?"

"Doubtful agent, but we'll take what we can get," the Shadow declared.

"When I was in the bar, they spotted me. Almost got me too, but I got out of there and hid in a nearby alley."

"Good job agent, will that be all?" the Shadow inquired.

"I have nothing further to report."

"Fine… transmission out," the Shadow pronounced.

With that, the closed circuit television disappeared and the wall assumed its normal position. The room returned to its usual dimness and the Shadow went back to work. It appeared the Shadow had some work to do tonight. This was the first major lead in the case, and as the Shadow already knew, this was all he needed to find the Mayor, for wherever Carlos Zerrini was, the Mad Doctor was not far behind.

* * *

Soon after, a lone figure stalked invisibly down Bayard Street with only his silhouette present. It was the Shadow. The street was littered with various stores, family owned businesses and a few seedy joints. Haunting the street like a mysterious phantasm, he came upon a dark alleyway. His shadow melded with the darkness cast by the alley as he wandered inside. Suddenly the street was abandoned and the Shadow was gone.

* * *

Meanwhile, Carlos Zerrini was at the head of a large table, in the middle of a poker game with a few of his cronies, in the upper floor of brothel on Bayard Street, in the heart of Chinatown. The brothel was dim and decorated in elegant Asian décor. The joint was crowded with various goons and the owner of the brothel, Madame Serena, and her beautiful Asian girls.

"Alright, games' over… so do we call this meeting to order or what boys? Carlos Zerrini shouted after downing the last of his beer. "Get me another drink," he ordered to a fair skinned call girl in a yellow kimono, pointing in the direction of a wet bar that was located at the other end of the room.

"Alright boys, as you all know by now, we have run into a few problems. Martin Kreeger, one of our best, is dead. Our operations are being effected by a few nosey bar patrons whom I suspect are involved with the Shadow. Hell, we're still trying to rebuild from the last time he interfered. He crippled our operations sending some of my best men to the chair and we were down, but not out. Now we're back and we've got a secret weapon… The Mad Doctor," Carlos Zerrini pronounced.

"Hey Boss, how come we ain't never seen his face?" a goon in a yellow pinstriped suit spoke up, puffing a cigar.

"Yeah Boss, he always hides his face," another goon declared.

"Boys, the Mad Doctor is a very private man. You all can rest assured that everything is going as planned. Our temporary partnership with this guy has been great for our organization," Zerrini exclaimed.

"Sure Boss, sure. But how much do we really know about this Mad Doctor. What is his plan? What if he tries somethin' funny? Like what if he double crosses you or any of us?"

"Boys, you don't have to worry about any of that. The Mad Doctor plans on bumping off the Mayor after he gets the money he demanded. We'll all get an equal cut and then the Mad Doctor plans on skipping town and no one will suspect that the Zerrini gang had anything to do with the mayor's abduction. That will leave us sittin' pretty. Money buys power gentlemen. But, on the off chance that he would try some funny business, you boys know what to do. I've trained you well." Zerrini uttered loudly.

"Well, say uh, Boss… what we gonna do about the Shadow?" a goon asked.

"Yeah, what if he interferes… what do we do if he gets wise to our plan?"

"Boys, your concerns are all relevant, but if the Shadow butts in to our operation any further, he'll get his. Besides, the Mad Doctor has plans for this wise guy if things get too out of hand," Zerrini guaranteed.

The overconfident gangster began laughing as a few of his men joined his laughter. They all seemed just a bit too sure of themselves. Suddenly, like a bat out of hell, the skylight above shattered, causing the night sky to reveal itself in the privacy of their meeting. The mobsters and women serving them all froze momentarily.

"What the hell was that?" Zerrini cried out.

A few moments of silence went by as everyone in the room stared up at the broken skylight. Suddenly a demented, sinister laughter overcame the room. Each of the call girls that were catering to the goons, hurried out of the room from fear that the wrecked skylight could escalate into something more serious.

The laughter continued, getting louder and louder with each passing moment. Suddenly Zerrini and his men stared at each other with the realization that they knew what the laughter was and where it was coming from.

"We know that laugh, don't we boys," Zerrini exclaimed, pointing up as if to signal to his men to attack the ceiling.

From out of nothing came a terrible, black-cloaked figure. The weird avenger of evil known as the Shadow dropped through the skylight, landing in the center of the room with his trademark automatics drawn.

"Ha ha ha ha ha, the weed of crime bears bitter fruit. The Shadow Knows," declared the Shadow, just before blasting away at the blank walls for sake of intimidation.

"What the hell are you waiting for? Blast him boys," Zerrini ordered furiously to his now heavily armed men.

As the men aimed, ready to fire, the eerie black figure of the Shadow stood directly before them. Suddenly he disappeared from view. As quickly as he had entered, the Shadow was gone, as if abducted by the dimness of the room. With the Shadow's stunning evasiveness came more laughter. Louder and louder the evil sounding laugh became as the men blindly fired at the walls, the floor and the ceiling.

"His shadow you idiots, shoot his shadow," Zerrini demanded to his men.

Suddenly, the members of the Zerrini gang began concentrating their gunfire on the Shadow's ever-present silhouette. The gunfire continued lividly until each of the goons noticed an eerie sight causing them to cease their fire.

From out of the silhouette positioned on the wall, came the actual Shadow. Each goon was poised and ready to take the intangible master of darkness down, but was too slow, for as soon as he came out of the wall, he swiftly stirred from side to side. His automatic pistols began blazing with the greatest of fury, taking out one goon after another, before any of them could fire another shot.

Amidst the gunfire, the Shadow realized that all of Zerrini's men had been taken down by his powerful .45 automatics. He stopped firing. The Shadow scanned the room, seeing nothing but bodies scattered across the floor. He quickly turned his attention to Carlos Zerrini, who was now headed out the door.

"Come back here," the Shadow demanded, immediately giving chase.

Zerrini fled down the stairs to the first floor and out of the place, as the confused call girls and Madame Serena looked on. Then suddenly a mysterious, shady outline swooped down the stairs and out the entrance of the place, as if chasing the poor gangster.

Once outside, Zerrini ran into a dark alleyway just behind the brothel and hid, breathing heavily. Blending in with the darkness, the Shadow quickly discovered the poor man nervously looking around with his revolver drawn.

"Ha, ha, ha, ha… you cannot hide from the Shadow Carlos Zerrini," the master of darkness proclaimed cloaked in invisibility.

"Where the hell are you," Zerrini screamed in fear, waving his gun.

"You and your men abducted the Mayor and have been involved in various smuggling rings. It's time for your reign as king of the underworld to end Carlos," the Shadow announced, still unseen. "Tell me, where is the Mad Doctor."

"Oh no, Shadow, you got my men, you ain't gettin' me. If I tell you where he is I'm a dead man."

Without warning the Shadow became visible and attacked Zerrini, throwing him against the wall of the narrow alleyway, causing his firearm to fly into the dark blackness of the alley.

"I've already heard most of your plan from the rooftops of the brothel… But if you won't inform me willingly, then gaze into my girasol ring… Tell me all."

With that the mystical opal in the Shadow's ring began to glow several different colors. Zerrini tried hard not to look, but couldn't help to stare as the mystic powers of the Shadow's ring captivated him.

"I can't tell you, I can't," Zerrini exclaimed, "But I must…" he finished in a trance-like voice, as the glowing ring subdued him.

"The Mad Doctor is out on an old road, on the outskirts of the city. 325 Delanoe Drive, out past Brooklyn. There is an old manor, and he is holding the Mayor there. The city is still working on collecting money for his ransom… When the mad Doctor gets the money, he will dispose of the Mayor and leave town."

"Is that all?" the Shadow inquired with a terrible hiss, gripping Zerrini's shirt with a gloved hand.

"Yes, that is the whole plan," Zerrini continued, still in the deep trance.

"You're finished Zerrini. Your men are finished. It's over."

Without warning, the Shadow grabbed the poor gangster and threw him further into the darkness of the alley. From out of the alley he walked, his silhouette clutching the asphalt of the street. He then approached a car parked at the side of the street, with bright headlights: a bright yellow taxicab that appeared brand-new.

Opening the door, he uttered, "The Sanctum Moe… Hurry."

As soon as the Shadow was secure inside the vehicle, Moe Shrevnitz pushed the pedal to the floorboard and sped away.


	6. Chapter 5 The Final Showdown

**Chapter 5 - The Final Showdown**

The next night gave way to an intense rain, as an obscure, slow moving vehicle trudged through heavy fog, down a dark road at the edge of Brooklyn. As the vehicle moved through the haze, it picked up speed, eventually pulling through the unforgiving vapor. As it turned right, onto a wide bypass leading out of Brooklyn, a brilliant streetlight shown on the automobile revealing a bright yellow taxicab that appeared brand-new.

As the cab drove on, it came to a gloomy, veering side road. It rapidly turned into the access road and followed a long, meandering, dark path. Finally, the lone taxi came to a round cul-de-sac, stalling in front of a dark but massive castle-like fortress of a mansion. The place looked as if it belonged somewhere in Eastern Europe, with its perennial cathedral-like charm, but also gave off an evil, dangerous vibe.

From out of the taxi stepped the Shadow, clad in black from the brim of his fedora to the tip of his sinister cloak. As the Shadow stepped away from the cab, it suddenly pulled away. The Shadow knew his driver, Moe Shrevnitz, would be ready if it was necessary.

Quickly, the Shadow paced to the entrance of the impressive, monolithic structure, a heavy iron-wrought door, only to find it locked. The door was firm and unwavering. It appeared that the master of darkness would need to find another entrance. As rapid and sly as a snake, he traversed to the side of the fortress, pulling out palm sized suction cups from beneath his cloak. Applying the pads to his gloved hands and feet, he began to scale the towering exterior. Upon reaching what appeared to be a stained glass window, he pushed it ajar and calmly climbed inside.

Once inside, the Shadow was surrounded by an eerie darkness. Retrieving a small flashlight from his cloak, he illuminated the dark area in several glowing hues.

The room appeared bare, and apparently was nothing more than an old, filthy attic. The Shadow beamed his light around the room, noticing old furniture and a few dusty, wooden shelves harboring the remainder of a few candles. Taking a step forward, an aperture in the floor creaked beneath his feet. Looking down, he noticed it was a trap door.

With great haste, the Shadow gripped the lid of the door, assuming it was the only way out. Swinging open the door, he dropped into the shady opening.

Again, the Shadow was surrounded by darkness. With flashlight in hand, he beamed the light around the mysterious room, noticing it was considerably larger than the previous. Hearing a creak behind him, he whipped around but before the Shadow could execute a quick draw, he was lifted into the air and then tossed by his neck across the dark room. The flashlight was lost from the Shadow's grasp, rolling into a corner, giving partial illumination to the room. Before colliding with the floor, he arched his body and tumbled. Immediately raising to his feet, he drew both automatics.

Standing before him was a bald, burly, brooding man in a red ceremonial-like robe. Suddenly he spoke.

"You're comin' with me Mista Shada'. The Mad Doctor is a' waitin'. "

"You cannot frighten me… I know," the Shadow declared with a terrible hiss.

Smiling with a stupid, devilish grin, the man quickly pulled a machine gun from under his robe. But before the goon even had time to aim, the Shadow's automatics started flaring, the projectiles flashing across the darkness of the room. As the man was hit, his body danced across the floor, before finally collapsing.

The Shadow quickly moved across the spacious area, stepping through a large doorway and into a hall. Looming down the dark hall, he noticed a grand staircase. Arriving at the long staircase, the Shadow descended into a well-lit lobby. As soon as he stepped out of the darkness, he rendered himself unseen, as if terrified of the light.

Suddenly laughter was heard from all around the lobby. This particular laugh was unfamiliar however, for it was not the sinister cackle of the Shadow. The laughter was far less distinct than that of the menacing master of darkness. The Shadow wasn't seen, but was surely present, as he noticed the sounds of laughter being projected from atop the staircase.

A small, frail, deformed monster dressed in a typical white lab coat with receding gray hair and beady eyes stood at the top of the stairs… The Mad Doctor!

Dr. Jonah Winters, was a scientist at NYU and was involved in medical nuclear studies… But two years ago, a horrible explosion that took out the science wing of the beautiful campus. He was involved in that explosion. He was declared dead by the authorities and sent to a local morgue. But in reality, he wasn't dead. He escaped from the morgue, and wandered until finding this place. He performed surgery on himself to the point of being able to function normally again. He then used this abandoned mansion as his haven of solitude, so he could conduct his mostly unethical experiments… Only as a result of the surgery, as well as some brain damage from the lab accident at NYU, he went insane.

"I know you are here Mr. Shadow. I have been expecting you, for your name rings throughout the underworld with great contempt. Allow me to introduce myself… My name is Dr. Jonah Winters… Learn the name well; for it will bring you doom Mr. Shadow. Yes, unexplainable doom," exclaimed the crazed madman in an awkward, shrill New York accent.

Suddenly, from out of the corner of the massive veranda at the top of the staircase came a familiar laugh. It was Carlos Zerrini. He hadn't taken care of Zerrini after their last encounter the night before. Now, he stood in the middle of the veranda at the top of the staircase.

"I wasn't gonna let you get away that easy you bastard. You busted up my boys Shadow. For that you'll pay," Zerrini uttered angrily.

"Get him Carlos," ordered the Mad Doctor nervously.

"Shut up old man… I'm through with you. This is personal."

"Quiet, both of you… Where is the Mayor Dr. Winters. What have you done with him?" the Shadow demanded, still invisible, somewhere at the bottom of the stairs.

"Oh he'll be along,"

"Show yourself, you idiot," Zerrini insisted. "No more games Shadow… tonight you die," he continued, racing down the marvelous staircase as if in pursuit of the invisible avenger.

"Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha… tonight I die Zerrini? You are gravely mistaken. If anyone dies, you will be the first to go," the Shadow declared in a weird hiss.

"Ahhh, come out and fight, you coward."

"You want me? Here I am," assured the Shadow.

Suddenly a swoosh of wind overcame the room and from out of nowhere a rush of wind embraced Zerrini as the Shadow punched him left and right. Zerrini was knocked left and right as if going into convulsions. With each attack from the Shadow, Zerrini's body danced violently across the lobby floor, until finally the poor gangster collapsed from a mighty knockout.

Without forewarning the sound of clapping came from the top of the stairs, catching the Shadow off guard. Gradually, the Mad Doctor paced down the stairs.

"Hee Hee Hee Ha… Well, you took out Zerrini, but you won't take me alive. Now, as I promised, the Mayor will be unharmed… but you must find him first. You will have to be one perceptive and astute individual to find him Mr. Shadow, for it will not be easy. He's around here somewhere… Here are the rules to our little game. I hold in my hand, a radio detonator. It is set for fifteen minutes. When the countdown is over, this whole place will go up in one hell of an explosion. If you haven't found the Mayor by that time, then surely you and the Mayor will have a fitting death. Now, if you don't mind; I will now take my leave… DEATH TO THE SHADOW."

With the Mad Doctor's final words, he rapidly pressed the button on his handheld detonator and the timer began. Quickly, the Mad Doctor fled up the stairs and raced out of sight.

Still invisible, the Shadow's mere silhouette moved hastily up the grand staircase. At first in pursuit of the Mad Doctor, the Shadow's objective changed when he realized the Mad Doctor was nowhere to be found.

Re-entering the dark confines of the eerie mansion, the Shadow once again became visible, with guns drawn just in case he ran into any trouble.

Moving from room to room, it appeared that the Shadow was having no luck locating the Mayor. Moments went by as he patrolled the top floor. Then, moving down he carefully examined the second floor. As he descended back to the lobby, he noticed he only had five minutes left.

Suddenly, behind the ostentatious staircase, the Shadow noticed something… an elevator lift. Hidden from view by the sheer size of the staircase, the elevator lift had been overlooked. For the Mayor's sake, this had to mean that this regal castle-like fortress had another floor or floors that were yet to be explored. The Shadow, in his full black garb, opened the lift gate and climbed aboard the elevator. Manning the controls, the Shadow was hurled downward with great force.

* * *

A few moments later, the Shadow stepped off the elevator and was greeted by a dim hallway, made entirely of cement, which led to a steel door. The darkness and dampness of the air implied that the Shadow might very well be underground. As he approached the door, he knew he didn't have much time. He opened the heavy steel door with considerable ease and ran into a large vividly lit room. The room was similar to a laboratory with expensive, heavy machinery everywhere and in the center was a large stainless steel table… like an operating table. But strapped to the table was the Mayor of New York City.

The Shadow ran to the Mayor, who was bound and gagged, and apparently unconscious, wearing five sticks of dynamite. Around his neck was a stopwatch. The Shadow looked at the watch. There were only three minutes left. The time on the watch correlated with the amount of time until the total destruction of the place. _But where was the Mad Doctor_, the Shadow thought to himself. The Shadow needed to worry about the Mayor first.

As the Shadow began loosening the Mayor from the table, he heard footsteps and a few clicks of a gun. Swiftly he turned, answering his own question. For directly in front of the Master of Darkness was Jonah Winters a.k.a. The Mad Doctor, aiming a short revolver.

"Dr. Winters, get out of my way. You'll be killed too," the Shadow warned, his voice as sinister as ever.

"I don't care. As long as I get to see you go to the grave. It appears you're going to ruin my brilliant plan. I can't let that happen."

"Winters, you're mad. Get out of here now," the Shadow demanded.

"With all do respect, that is why I am the Mad Doctor. And you are dead," the Mad Doctor uttered with passion in his voice, pulling the trigger on his revolver.

The Shadow lunged out of the way, then as quick as lightening drew his automatics and fired a round into the crazed madman. The Mad Doctor fell to the ground, hacking.

Abruptly, the Shadow finished untying the Mayor, cutting the sticks of dynamite from his chest. Then, with all his might, he threw the Mayor over his shoulder and made a mad dash for the elevator, leaving Zerrini behind.

Once he reached the elevator, the Shadow opened the lift gate and situated the Mayor inside. Glancing at the stopwatch, he manned the controls. The stopwatch read a minute and a half.

As the elevator lift arrived at the main floor of the mansion, the Shadow furiously opened the lift gate. Grabbing the Mayor, the Shadow darted out from behind the staircase. He quickly reached the main entrance and with one gloved hand, quickly unbolted the heavy steel bolt from the entrance. Barely able to open the heavy iron-wrought door, the Shadow heaved the Mayor out of the entranceway and outside into the cold blackness of night.

Stationed just outside the colossal mansion was Moe Shrevnitz' bright yellow taxicab that appeared brand-new. The Shadow lugged the Mayor to the car and put him in.

"Get us out of here Moe," the Shadow ordered, ominous as ever. "The place is going to blow."

With that, the Shadow entered the automobile, and slammed the door. As the cab sped away from the massive castle-like house, Moe Shrevnitz heard a loud boom and suddenly the place went up in a bright flash of flames.


	7. Epilogue The Truth Comes Out

**Epilogue – The Truth Comes Out**

The Mad Doctor was finished. The Mayor had officially returned to office. It was now days later, around eight o'clock, as Lamont Cranston walked into Manhattan's City Hall with Margo Lane in tow. As soon as they stepped into the building, Commissioner Weston headed toward them.

"Good morning Mr. Cranston," the Commissioner half shouted from across the lobby.

"Morning Sir, you know Miss Lane," Cranston offered

"Ah yes hello," the Commissioner greeted.

"Hi Mr. Weston," Margo replied.

"I'd like to congratulate your department on getting the Mayor back Sir. I must admit, I never would have guessed the Mayor was even missing. The police forces of New York did the right thing though. This city would have flooded into chaos, had we known the Mayor was indisposed."

"Oh thank you Lamont. As policemen, it is our job to keep the peace you know."

"Oh yes, of course," Cranston agreed.

"If you'll excuse me Lamont, the proceedings are about to start. It's going to be broadcasted on the radio you know. Good day Miss Lane," the Commissioner offered, smiling and hurrying away.

As the Commissioner entered the crowded meeting room, a large mob of people from all over the city occupied the hall behind them, waiting to enter the proceedings. Cranston and Margo Lane entered and casually sat in the back of the spacious room. The crowd began to move into the meeting room with great hustle and bustle. As soon as everyone was seated and quiet, the Mayor stood up from an elongated table, at the front of the room, to begin his speech. People from various newspapers and radio stations crowded the front of the room, in hopes of getting the best news coverage of this meeting.

"Good day, ladies and gentlemen. For those of you tuning in at home, this is your Mayor. We are broadcasting at City Hall to explain a recent turn of events that has occurred. I regret to inform you all of something that you as New Yorkers, as well as the city government has been unaware of, at least up to now. Close to two weeks ago I had been abducted from my home. The culprit was a gang that the New York police had been after for a long time. At present they are all presumed dead. The ringleader issued a ransom note, but nothing was ever paid, simply because our boys didn't know where to send the ransom to. I am aware that the police overstepped their power by not alerting city officials, but under the circumstances, I feel they did the right thing. The last thing this city needs is panic. I am currently continuing my duties as your Mayor. I appreciate all of your support. Thank you fellow New Yorkers for your time and attention."

Immediately after the Mayor's speech, he got up to leave the room, but was bombarded by the press. A cop quickly dismissed the spectators. The crowd moved furiously out into the lobby.

Lamont Cranston and Margo Lane were some of the first to leave. As they moved down the massive flight of steps exiting City Hall, a bright yellow taxicab that appeared brand-new rolled up to collect them.

"Once again, the police are getting the credit you deserve Lamont," Margo Lane whispered.

"Justice is the credit Margo. And justice was firmly served in this case," Lamont argued with his companion.

"Yes, thanks to the Shadow," Margo uttered as they arrived at the cab.

As they entered the freshly polished taxi, it zoomed down Main Street en route to the Shadow's Sanctum, for the Shadow's work was never done.


End file.
